


When Lightning Strikes the Mountain Peak

by NebulaWrites



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Failed Kyuubi Attack, Alternate Universe - not everyone dies, Deidara is under-age for a while, I repeat, Jinchuriki!Deidara, Jinchuriki!Orochimaru, KAKASHI AND DEIDARA DON'T GET TOGETHER UNTIL DEIDARA IS OLD ENOUGH, Kakashi is mainly Obito's guard, M/M, Minato is alive, Multi, Obito got caught during the Kyuubi attack, a bit more Mom!Orochimaru than originally planned, anyone need more of a reason to not let me have free reign of my ideas?, but he doesn't get with Kakashi until he's of age, but sometimes watches over Naruto when Orochimaru can't, i wrote this because I could
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulaWrites/pseuds/NebulaWrites
Summary: The news of the selected Jinchūriki replacement had spread fast and far in the Land of Earth. Especially since Iwa’s two current Jinchūriki had heard of it within a week of the decision being made, and Rōshi had insisted they come home to figure out why it was made in the first place.Han had come back in order to check on the boy.Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea since the blond brat was only three – hardly the age to start training and definitely too soon to be placed in the academy – and freshly orphaned.





	When Lightning Strikes the Mountain Peak

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been rattling around in my head for so long, I'm glad to finally get started. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

“This just sounds like Onoki is waiting for an ‘accident’ to happen to one of us,” Rōshi says, eyes narrowed as he leans back against a wall, watching Han for any sort of reaction and getting frustrated when the other man doesn’t so much as blink. So, after a few moments, the Four-tails Jinchūriki follows Han’s gaze, watching the small dot of bright blond try to overpower Onoki. The boy is a small, skinny thing, most definitely he wouldn’t be tall enough to even come up to Rōshi’s hip, and it feels wrong that he’s already being outcast by the villagers.

Iwagakure is – after all – equal parts shinobi and civilian. The news of the selected Jinchūriki replacement had spread fast and far in the Land of Earth. Especially since Iwa’s two current Jinchūriki had heard of it within a week of the decision being made, and Rōshi had insisted they come home to figure out why it was made in the first place.

Han had come back in order to check on the boy.

Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea since the blond brat was only three – hardly the age to start training and definitely too soon to be placed in the academy – and freshly orphaned. The redheaded shinobi could remember the boy’s mother – fiery, surprisingly level-headed and a battlefield genius – and feels something twinge deep in his chest for the loss of such a brilliant woman who had undoubtedly been a loving mother.

“We should keep an eye on him.”

This makes him pause, looking up at Han in surprise and slight wonder. “Keep an eye on him? We’re hardly suited to be parents, Han.” He drawls, but despite his words, he follows the larger Jinchūriki as Han stands from the crate he was sitting on to leap from their road. It’s tellingly easy to get to the boy, who stands out like a sore thumb against the browns and grays that made up Iwa’s stone… _everything_. It’s entirely unsurprising that the boy is huffing for breath as they approach, and he looks up with confused blue eyes when the two Jinchūriki stop in front of him.

In a way that any child should never be in the middle of a village, he looks them over and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, asking in a small, frightened voice, “Do you want something?”

Han crouches down, nudging his hat up slightly so it doesn’t impair his vision when he looks at the boy, and Rōshi frowns. Barely over two weeks. That’s all it took to turn his friend’s son into a wary mess, all thanks to the actions of those around him. “Do you know who we are?” the Four-tails Jinchūriki tries to keep his tone light, friendly, and he can tell it works by the way the blond relaxes visibly.

“Ya, momma says-,” blue eyes go dark as the boy swallows. “Said… She said you two are very kind men, some of the strongest shinobi in the village, hm.”

So he picked up his grandfather’s speech pattern? Rōshi smiles – a little bittersweet because he knew the boy’s mother must’ve adored that fact – before placing his hand on bright golden strands. “That does sound like something Haya would say,” Han muses, tipping his head to the side slowly before he stands, offering his hand to the boy. “Would you like to join us for food, child?”

“Deidara.” The boy said, eyeing Han’s hand. After a moment he slides his own hand into Han’s – tiny compared to the hand of the Jinchūriki – and Rōshi sighs inwardly. “You don’t mind, hm, do you?” Entirely in sync, the Jinchūriki look at each other before down at Deidara, who’s watching them with wide, sullen eyes. Those eyes turn bright with relief when Rōshi reassures that they don’t mind at all, slowly holding his hand towards the blond when Han gives him a chiding look. Deidara’s entire face lights up as he grabs hold of the redhead’s hand, nearly vibrating in excitement as they make tracks for the nearest restaurant.

Deidara’s head is carefully resting on Rōshi’s knee, and the Four-tails Jinchūriki can’t hold back a smile as he watches him sleep. “Should we bring him with us?” Han suggests, still not moving from where he’s rubbing the boy’s back in small, soothing strokes. A little skeptical, the redhead looks up and gives his friend an incredulous look.

“We’re not suited for parenthood, Han,” he finds himself repeating for like the fifth time that night. “Dragging him from the village, away from anyone his age would take its toll on him.”

“And leaving him to be shunned and hated by the village is somehow better?”

That was actually a good point. Cringing, Rōshi looked down at Deidara again. It’s entirely unhelpful remembering the boy’s comment about how happy he was that someone was being kind to him. It’s a cruel world… More like Onoki is cruel for deciding such a thing when Deidara isn’t even in the academy. “We’re not parents.” Mumbled the smaller Jinchūriki, ghosting his hand over golden hair with a sigh.

“We’re not taking him until he’s older.” Is what he decides in the end, and he does his best to ignore the happy little tilt of Han’s head.

 

He’s trembling, clutching desperately at the limp hand on the edge of the bed. He feels cold, but at the same time he’s burning hot and it’s _weird_. “No!” he snaps swiping at the woman that goes to drag the blanket over the man’s head. “Don’t, he’s not-!”

“Deidara,”

A large, familiar hand grabs at his shoulder and he turns around, tears building in his eyes, to stare up at Han. The large man looks tired in a way that makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Deidara sniffles slightly, refusing to look behind him as the whisper of cloth sounds from the bed. Rōshi’s dead. No one could figure out why the redheaded man had been dying, in the end, he was pretty sure they just gave up in order to get a new Jinchūriki.

Gods, why did it have to be him?

“Let’s go.” Han murmured, holding his hand out to Deidara in a familiar gesture. Because to not do so would mean being left alone with Rōshi’s rapidly cooling body, the blond grabs the older Jinchūriki’s hand desperately, hiding his face against red armor as they walked from the room.

 

Dinner was tasteless, and Deidara hadn’t been able to make himself eat more than a fourth of his plate before he retreated to his room. He’s tucked in the corner, clinging to his pillow as he stares at the moon through his window. “ _What’s wrong, you’re never this quiet, did you do something_?” a voice asks, low and very nearly a growl. Startled, he feels his entire body jerk at the unexpected question, brows furrowing in confusion.

“ _Well_?”

Oh, it must be the bijuu. A little wary, but not wary enough to not respond, Deidara sighs through his nose. “I haven’t done anything, hm,” he mumbles into his pillow, holding it close to his chest. “It’s just-. I just-. Are you the…”

In the back of his mind, there’s a snort – unimpressed and faintly angry. “ _The Four-tails_?”

“Do you have a name?” the genin asks, which is as close as he dared to get to agreeing. Closing his eyes, he tries to picture what the bijuu could look like. He’s entirely caught off guard by the noise of surprise that the demon makes.

“ _What makes you think I have a name_?” it asks instead of answering.

“Everyone has a name,” Deidara says, rolling his eyes. “I’m Deidara, hm, I know you knew Rōshi’s name. Look, I don’t want to just call you ‘bijuu’ or ‘Four-tails’, it’s rude.”

The beast doesn’t reply, and Deidara scowls as he picks himself off the floor to crawl into bed. If it didn’t want to talk to him then fine, he didn’t want to talk to it either. He wraps himself up into his blankets tightly, clenching them in his fists and taking a slow, long breath that smells of embers and warm afternoons – _Rōshi_ , the smell was Rōshi plain and simple. “ _You cared for him very much, didn’t you_?” rumbles the bijuu – tone somewhere between concerned and utterly disinterested – and the young artist closes his eyes so hard it actually hurts.

“You don’t even care, why are you asking me that if you don’t care?” his voice breaks halfway through the sentence and he curses at himself as warmth trails down his cheeks. “Rōshi and Han are the only things that I can call family, now he’s _gone_ and it’s only a matter of time before Han dies too. I’ll be alone after that. No one else will understand.”

“Deidara?”

He shoots upright at Han’s voice, staring at the larger Jinchūriki with wide eyes. Han is in the doorway, head tilted to the side faintly as he studies Deidara. “It will be a while yet before that happens,” he reassures, coming in to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow you need to get some sleep.” A large hand drops onto golden blond hair, smoothing it down before pushing the haphazardly twisted braid over Deidara’s shoulder.

“I think traveling might suit you better than staying in a village.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to leave it here, just to start things off. Tell me what you think so far? I'd love to hear feedback, and - as ever - thank you for reading!


End file.
